The Stormtrooper Diaries
by Batman and Ronon
Summary: A small band of Stormtrooper's fumble their way through the three original Star Wars movies.
1. Chapter 1

**27th April.**

**11:32 am**

Corporal Pryce really hated the Empire.

Tap, tap, tap.

That was all he could hear, the constant, tapping against the cold metal wall to his right. It sounded like one of water production pipes was on the fritz again. Or maybe some poor rookie had fallen into one of the maintenance shafts and couldn't get it out. Either case it was annoying. It was just one thing after another with this new posting he'd been assigned to. First of all his squad commander couldn't remember his or any of his squads names, which was really helpful in a battle situation.

Second, his comrades couldn't shoot anything that was smaller than a bantha. And even then they struggled.

And last but not least, he had the absolute worst job in the Empire, being posted on an Imperial Star Destroyer. What the hell is a foot soldier supposed to do an intergalactic battleship? Look out of the window and shake your freakin' fist at the enemy?

God the Empire sucked.

**27th April**

**11:55 am**

Click.

"…And another thing! Those damn prison officers get paid way more than us. Why? They just sit around all day with that smug expression on their..."

_Good God this guy will not stop talking. Why me? That was another thing about the Empire, ever since the latest batch of clones went ape shit, the Empire had been recruiting old veterans of past wars no one gave a crap about anymore. Of course all of them had a story to tell and none of them could keep their mouths shut for more than five seconds. _

_I mean with the clones they all basically talked about the same things because they were clones, but hey, at least they were consistent, if a little dull. Where's the hell's the freakin' lift anyway?_

Click, click.

"… vacuous bastards, always looking down on me as if I was dirt. You know back in my day..."

Clickclickclickclickclick.

"…complete asses. Never bring drinks to the Christmas party and always take everyone else's..."

CLICK!

Scrunching his eyes up, Pryce hung his head low, letting his arms hang loosely by his side.

_Why, why, why?_

Each 'why' he uttered in his mind was followed by a short bang of his head against the wall and a click of the button by the elevator, each click harder than the last.

**27th April**

**12:04 pm**

After what had felt like an eternity waiting for a lift, his salvation finally came as the commander came over the intercom. "_Corporal… erm_…" Pryce could visualize his commander picking up a sheet of paper with all of their names on it, looking desperately for his because he was too damn lazy to remember it. "_Let's see it's here somewhere. Corporal…Pryce! That's it! Er... report to the main briefing room at once." "_

"Gee I would if the elevators worked." He thought aloud.

"_Oh and could the owner of the Tie Bomber, registration 0654FG7, please move it to hanger bay B, Lord Vader's shuttle is having some difficulty landing and he's getting impatient." _The door in front of him suddenly slid open and Pryce grinned widely, stepping inside. To his absolute horror the rambling man stepped in after him, apparently still going on about something Pryce couldn't care less about.

_It's days like this that make you want to join the rebellion._


	2. Chapter 2

**27****th**** April**

**11:59 am**

Colonel Simmons really hated the Sith.

"Sir, would you just sit down?"

"No! Not until I find out what the hold-up is!"

"Look. Lord Vader, there's just a minor issue at space traffic control. Apparently there's another craft parked in our spot."

Vader slammed his fist down on the back of Simmons' chair and pointed out of the view screen with his other hand towards the looming Star Destroyer's hangar bay. "Which ship? That one?" Vader asked, indicating a Tie Bomber.

"Yes sir." Simmons answered impatiently.

"Then charge your weapons. Blast it out of the sky!"

"What?" Vader leant over the control panel, tapping controls randomly, his breathing increasing ten fold. Spinning round in his chair, Simmons slapped Vader's hands away. "Enough! Do you want me to turn this ship around, 'cos I will take us all the way back to the Death Star if need be! I don't have time for this crap!" Vader took a step back and reached down with one hand, grasping onto his lightsaber. Holding up one hand, Simmons shook his head. "Hey! I see what you're doing! Don't even think about it! Put it down." The two of them stared at each other for a few moments, Simmons' eyes widening by the second. "I'm going count to five and if you haven't out that lightsaber down I'm gonna turn this ship around. One."

Vader stood motionless.

"Two."

Vader remained motionless.

"Three."

Tilting his head slightly, he tightened his grip on the lightsaber.

"Four."

"Fine!" Holding up one hand defensively, Vader holstered his lightsaber.

"Alright." Simmons gave him a quick nod and smiled lightly. "Now if you could take your seat sir." _That's the last time I offer to transport those damn Sith. _

Turning back round in his chair, Simmons' brought up communications and hailed the Star Destroyer. "Hanger control, this is shuttle Tydirium requesting you move that damn Tie Bomber. Who the hell parked that thing?"

"_Apologies Tydirium, we had a little party last night… things got out of hand."_

"I can see that. Tydirium out." On closer inspection, the interior wall of the hanger bay seemed to be scratched, as if a ship had scraped along it. On the opposite wall, spray painted in large letter's it read, 'Tarkin sucks!'

_Home sweet home._


	3. Chapter 3

**27****th**** April**

**11:47 pm**

Major Davies really hated anyone of a lower rank than him.

_All these damn recruits. Thinking they're so tough. Think they can teach me how to run an army. Ha! I'd like to see them try._

_In fact the only thing worse than an Imperial rookie was those damn Rebels. Despite the fact they were horribly outmatched and outgunned, they had one small advantage. They didn't have to wear these damn helmets. _

Sighing in frustration, Davies removed his helmet, taking in a deep breath of fresh air as he did. Sticking the helmet on the bench beside him, Davies stood up and approached the table at the centre of the briefing room.

_Those helmets were a damned inconvenience. Well they weren't so bad back in the days when the clone wars were still going on. At least you could see out of those helmets. You can barely anything with these new ones. You just kind of have to guess where you're shooting now. Plus the old helmets were kinda stylish. _

_Of course when the Emperor came to power everything had to become more goth-like. Suddenly everything's painted grey rather than white. Even our laser beams our red now. Trouble is the Rebels use red laser beams too, so now I don't know who's shooting who and where the hell it's coming from. Anyway, command says red's a much more threatening colour. I know better. Red laser beams are cheaper to produce. It's no secret the Empire's had to cut back on costs and raise taxes since they built that damn Death Star. _

Tapping a couple of buttons, the holographic projection of a Rebel corvette popped up and beside it a small projection of the Emperor appeared. "_Major Davies. The time has come. Execute Order 66."_

The two of them stood silent for a moment, with Davies just staring blankly at the Emperor. After a few moments, he began to laugh half-heartedly.

"_Ah-hah! Nearly got you that time didn't I?"_

"Yes sir. Nearly. It just get's funnier every time you pull that joke my lord."

"_Yes, I know, I know." _The Emperor began to chuckle and Davies had to resist from rolling his eyes.

As Palpatine continued to chuckle Davies cut in quickly, just wanting to get this meeting over and done with. "What can I do for you my Lord?"

"_Ah of course, right down to business, I like your style Davies." _Palpatine grinned widely and nodded his head enthusiastically. _"So, business. Well first things first. I can't seem to get in touch with the ship's commander. Admiral Harris."_

"Oh you wont my lord, he lost his communicator at this huge party we had last ni-"

"_Party?"_ The Emperor asked sternly.

"D-did I say party? I meant huge battle… with the Rebel's."

"_Hmm." _Davies smiled weakly. _"Whatever the reason, it seems the Rebels have somehow managed to get hold of our secret plans for the Death Star!" _Palpatine paused for dramatic effect, as if waiting for some sort of response from Davies that he never managed to get. _"Anyway. The ship you're on is the closest. Board the Rebel craft. And get back the plans!"_

"Of course my lord. Is there anything else I should know?"

"_I've sent my apprentice, Lord Vader to your position to help deal with situation." _Davies scowled and muttered something under his breath. The last thing he needed was more Sith getting in the way.

"Excellent. Well I'll get my squad together. We'll uh… get back to you when we have the plans."

"_See that you do Major." _The projection of the Emperor faded and Davies sighed loudly, slumping back towards the bench and collapsing into it.

Oh God. Now he'd have to get in touch with his squad. He hated the lot of them. Raw recruits, all of them. And of course then he'd have to inform Admiral Harris of their latest mission, which was always a rewarding experience.

Pulling out a small datapad from his pocket, Davies brought up his squad's roster, looking over it carefully. Clicking a button on the pad, he brought up a ship wide, communication. "Corporal… erm…"

_God, he really needed to learn his squad's names._


End file.
